


I'm gonna get myself back home to you

by stealing-jasons-job (changingthefairy_tale)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bellarke, But I stg it has a happy ending, F/M, Feelings Call Out, Hurt/Comfort, Literally all of the angst, Mutual Pining, POV Multiple, Post-Season/Series 04, star-crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27892756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changingthefairy_tale/pseuds/stealing-jasons-job
Summary: Leaving Clarke behind was the hardest thing Bellamy ever had to do. For the first time in his life, he'd felt real hope for a future with her. Praimfaya had ripped that away from him, in the same comical way the universe took everything he cared about — his mother, Octavia's innocence, Gina, his friends, his freedom. He'd keep going for the others on the ring, for Clarke, but he was done caring. About anything.But then he saw that patch of green, and unmistakable hope bloomed in his chest. Maybe she made it. Maybe she was there in that Eden waiting for him to come back. She had to have made it, she had to be alive down there.And so the five-year wait begins, Bellamy with renewed hope for the future and the others on the Ring with a sinking worry that if he's wrong, it will be the thing that destroys him.***Make sure to check out the accompanying gifset made by the incredible @bellamyblake on Tumblr!
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 39
Kudos: 179
Collections: t100fic4blm Donation Celebration





	1. before

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of The 100 Fic for BLM initiative's donation celebration after we hit our goal of $2,500 back in September. Donors were encouraged to send in themes/tropes and vote on their favorites, and then writers chose one theme and at least four tropes for fic ideas that creators then helped come up with accompanying art for.
> 
> Thanks to generous donors, we've now raised over $4,000 for assorted BLM-supporting organizations around the world — and we're just getting started! To learn more about the initiative, how to get involved, or how to prompt one of our creators or writers, [check out our carrd!](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)

  
No regrets. That’s what Clarke keeps telling herself as she helps Raven with the rocket. She’s shit with all things technological, but Raven’s good at instructing and this way her mind stays off of everything but the task in front of her. 

By the time she’d been able to take time to talk with her mom earlier—say goodbye for the next five years—the comms had cut out.  She’d held onto Bellamy tight as he whispered that it would be okay, that they would all make it and that she’d see her mom again someday. 

No regrets. 

Even if she couldn’t say goodbye, at least she knew Abby was safe. And so were Octavia and Kane. She’d done what needed to be done for the human race to survive, and now all that’s left is to make sure the friends with her on Becca’s island survive, too. 

Raven sends her away after a while, griping that Clarke’s just slowing down her progress. Clarke knows she’s under a lot of stress, and it’s not like she’s  _ wrong _ , so she leaves to go get Emori. The grounder woman is much more adept at mechanics, and it’s obvious Raven has quickly taken to her as a new friend. 

Clarke makes her way back to the room she’d been using the past few nights. It’s more lavish than she’s used to, spacious with a four-poster bed and satin sheets. The closet is full of 21st century styles, and the bathroom comes with a waterfall shower and heated floors. 

The water feels heavenly against her skin, and Clarke stays under the spray longer than necessary, her eyes closed as she lets it wash away all of her worries about everything that could go wrong between tonight and tomorrow when they had to take off. 

But eventually she does get out, drying off quickly before putting on a pair of cotton shorts and a matching tank top. She makes her way back downstairs to see what Murphy has scrounged up for dinner. It’s late, so the lights are off, but there’s a pair of broad shoulders sitting at the kitchen island. 

“You ought to get some rest,” she comments as she plops into the empty seat next to Bellamy.

“I could say the same to you,” he shoots back without heat. He sounds tired, the bone-deep kind of exhaustion that comes from fighting for so long you don’t really remember a time before it all started. 

“Just came down to grab some food. Raven finally kicked me out of the lab, so there’s nothing else for me to do but wait.” 

Bellamy pushes over the plate of food that was sitting in front of him, an unspoken offer to share. They sit in silence as they eat, her stomach too nervous about what is to come to really enjoy the meal, no matter how good of a cook Murphy is. 

“It’s weird, sitting in this grand house that seems untouched by time and all of the fighting,” he says eventually, breaking the quiet. 

“Yeah, it feels like the buildings from the City of Light, except it’s real,” she admits, taking a look around the dark kitchen. 

“Definitely an upgrade from where we’ll be staying the next five years,” he makes an attempt at a joke, and Clarke can’t help but chuckle. 

“Who’d have thought three months ago that we’d be wishing for the accommodations of Alie’s doomsday city?” Their quiet giggles turn into full-blown laughter, both of them leaned against each other unable to catch their breath. 

The entire situation is just so absurd. Their lives in general are absurd. 

First they are sent back to Earth to see if it’s survivable, only to find that it’s inhabited by an entire society of Grounders. Against all odds, they manage to make it out of a war with said Grounders, only to be captured by a secret group that lives in Mt. Weather. Then they survive that, only for a psychotic killer to take over as Commander by force, all while a rogue AI attempts to turn everyone left into a brainwashed Hive mind that lives inside a fake digital city. They survive  _ that,  _ only to learn that a second nuclear apocalypse is on its way, forcing people to hide in a bunker or escape back to space in a last-ditch effort to save humanity. 

It’s comical, really. It’d make a great old-Earth TV show if it wasn’t so ridiculous. 

After a while their laughter dies down , and they are left once more in silence. Bellamy sighs before getting up to clean their plate. Clarke almost comments to tell him it doesn’t matter—the place will be decimated, dirty dishes included, in less than 24 hours. But that seems like too morbid a thought to voice aloud, even for her. So she lets him rinse off the plate and cutlery, placing them all back where they go in the drawers and cabinets. 

Clarke watches him, and she can’t help but think that the scene is all very domestic out of context. Her mind drifts almost against her will to the idea of them in some alternate universe, her sitting at a kitchen island like this, watching him clean up after a late night. 

Maybe if they had been born in a less harsh world, before the first bombs and all of the insanity that followed, they could have met under different circumstances. Maybe Clarke could have ended up as Octavia’s roommate in college, and Bellamy could have been her annoyingly arrogant and overprotective older brother. 

They would have fought like cats and dogs, just like they did when they first met during the Dropship days, but she knows they eventually would have become the friends and partners they are now. He’s her person, and that wouldn’t change no matter the universe they’re in. 

But maybe she would have the courage to tell him how she feels in this imaginary other world. Maybe after a late night spent watching tv together and binging ice cream or some other old-world delicacy, he’d be cleaning up in a dark kitchen and she would brazenly walk up behind him and wrap her arms around him. And when he turned around, maybe she would lean up and kiss him without a second’s hesitation. 

As she continues to watch him, her head held up by one arm propped on the countertop, something occurs to her. 

Maybe for just one night, she could be that version of Clarke and he could be that version of Bellamy.

This is possibly the last night of their lives. Who knows what will happen tomorrow, if they’ll make it to the Ring. And she doesn’t want to have regrets. 

So when he comes back around the island, she reaches a hand out to grab his arm as he passes her. He stops to look at her, his eyebrows scrunched together in that way he does when he’s asking her what’s wrong. 

She doesn’t say anything, just peering up at him from beneath her lashes.  A whole conversation passes between them in the moment their eyes are locked on each other. 

Clarke takes a deep breath and leans up, brushing her lips across his. It’s a quick kiss, gentle and hesitant—a question. 

When she pulls back, he’s studying her, eyes darting back and forth between her own in concentration. Looking for the answer to some question he must be too afraid to voice out loud. 

He must find it because in the next second, he turns to capture her lips in a heated kiss. One of his hands curls against her hip while the other tangles itself into her hair, keeping her locked against him. 

She gasps into it, opening her mouth for him and moving to wrap her arms around his neck. 

It’s heaven, the feeling of his mouth on hers and his hands on her skin. Like everything with Bellamy, it’s consuming. She’s never felt it before, and certainly not with a first kiss. 

But it’s felt like their entire relationship on the ground has been leading up to this moment, this release. And now that she's had a taste, she doesn’t want to let it go. 

She pulls him even closer, turning in her chair and spreading her legs to wrap around his hips.  Bellamy steps in closer, both of his hands gripping her waist as if she’ll disappear in front of his eyes if he lets go. 

When they finally pull back to catch their breaths, Bellamy leans his forehead against hers. She smiles, unwilling to open her eyes and break the trance she’s currently in. 

After a moment, he pulls away and she’s forced to look at him. The smile stretched across his face is almost angelic, and Clarke hates that they live in a world where seeing this beauty is so rare. 

He cups her cheek, chasing her lips again, and Clarke wishes she could capture this moment to replay forever—the look of Bellamy leaning toward her, the shadows of the dark room mixing with the moonlight to cast him in the most breathtaking light. 

This kiss starts out more exploratory, lazy and slow, but it quickly builds into something desperate. It’s Bellamy and it’s Clarke and it’s the end of the fucking world as they know it, and this moment between them is a precious reprieve from the inevitable horrors they’ll have to face when the sun rises. 

So Clarke slides from her stool, grabbing Bellamy’s hand and silently dragging him up the stairs to her room. When they cross the threshold to her room, Bellamy pulls lightly on her hand to turn her around and bring her close. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, the first words he’s spoken since the joke about the City of Light. 

Clarke nods, bringing her hand up to move a curl from where it hangs over his eye. “I don’t want to have regrets going into tomorrow. No matter what happens…” she can’t force herself to start naming all of the things that could—and probably would— go wrong tomorrow, and she can’t quite tell him the depth of how much she needs this, needs him, if tonight really is the last night of her life. 

“No regrets,” he says, not making her finish the sentence. 

“No regrets.” 

This time when he pulls her to him, she lets go completely. He walks her back up against the now-closed door, his arms caging her in as he devours her. It’s too much and not enough, and she strains to get even closer, her hands slipping under the tshirt he’s wearing because she needs the skin-on-skin contact. 

Bellamy must agree with the sentiment because suddenly his hands are everywhere, and Clarke finds herself naked and on the bed in a matter of moments. 

Clarke expects it to be awkward, their first time together. It certainly was with Finn, and even the first time her and Lexa slept together, there was some maneuvering to figure out what worked best. She really should have known that things with Bellamy would be electrifying and effortless — it always is.

Even when they were arguing every waking moment of the day back their first few weeks on the ground, they still fit together seamlessly. Push and pull, yin and yang, heart and head. 

And when they say opposites attract, damn do they mean it. Each kiss, every touch, every stroke of their hips, sets Clarke on fire. 

After, Clarke is curled up against Bellamy’s chest, each of them trying to catch their breath and reconcile the monumental shift that just happened between them. There would be no going back after this — at least not for Clarke. 

She had a hard enough time keeping her feelings tamped down in her chest before, and after knowing what it’s like to have his hands roam freely over her body, have his lips ghost across her cheeks as he whispers the filthiest things for only her to hear… she wanted this all the time. And with any luck, she’d have five years in space to experience this feeling over and over and over again. 

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Bellamy whispers, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. Clarke turns, propping herself on his chest to smirk at him. 

“I think your exact words were ‘you’re a fucking goddess,’ if I remember correctly.” 

One of his hands snakes around to grip possessively at her ass, shooting her a confident smirk of his own. “Seeing as you were screaming my name right after, I think it’s safe to say you didn’t hate it.” 

They hold eye contact for a moment, silently challenging the other to back down from this game of flirtatious chicken. But after a few seconds, Clarke can’t stop the giggle that escapes. He joins in, and they both laugh at how crazy it is that they’ve ended up here after everything. 

“No matter what happens tomorrow, I need you to know—” Bellamy starts, suddenly growing very serious as he gazes into her eyes. 

“Bellamy,” she cuts him off, breaking eye contact. But he reaches a hand out to cup her face, forcing her to look at him, not letting her run away. 

“For once in your life, will you let me finish my sentence? I need you to hear this.” The corners of his mouth turn up in the smallest smile, and Clarke goes silent at the sincerity in his voice. His eyes are pleading with her, and honestly, when has she ever been able to say no to those eyes when they’re looking at her like that? 

“No matter what happens tomorrow, I need you to know that this meant something. That you mean something. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were going to turn my whole ass life upside down. 

“But I never imagined that you would become my best friend, my partner… my home. For as long as I can remember, Octavia has been the only person I cared about. But then you jumped off that Dropship ladder, blue eyes and blonde hair barging into my life like a goddamn tornado, ready to challenge me on every single decision.” 

Clarke smiles at the memory, remembering the way she hated him those first few days on the ground. God, how things change. “You were being an ass,” she says in mock defense. 

“Yeah, and you were being a know-it-all.” She rolls her eyes at him but doesn’t argue the point. “But know-it-all or not, you were the first person who expected me to be more, expected me to be better. And pretty soon, I found myself  _ wanting _ to be better. And I know that love terrifies you, and with good reason after everything you’ve been through but—” 

“I love you, too,” she blurts out before he can continue, eyes wide and filled with tears. She’d give anything to see the smile that blooms across his face every single day for the rest of her life. 

He kisses her, deep and slow and reverent, and she pours everything she has back into it. She needs him to know, she needs him to feel just how much he means to her. 

When he eventually pulls back, he gives her a signature smirk, one eyebrow raised. “I thought I told you to let me finish my sentence.” 

“You’re not the boss of me,” she laughs, leaning in to kiss him again and again and again. “And nothing is going to happen to us tomorrow. Raven will get the rocket working and Monty will figure out the algae and we’ll figure out the oxygen. We’re going to survive this.” 

“ You still have hope?” he asks, his thumb tracing her cheekbones delicately. 

Clarke smiles at her own words being repeated back to her. “We still breathing?”

With a final kiss to Bellamy’s forehead, she lays back down curled up against his side to get some rest. 

In less than 12 hours, the world around them will burn and for the second time in history, the entirety of humanity will be dependent upon an old cult’s bunker and a rickety space station to survive. But so long as she has this man by her side, she knows everything will turn out alright. 

The last thing she feels before drifting off into a blissful sleep is Bellamy’s lips pressed against her hairline. 

“I love you, Clarke Griffin.” 

***

Of course, the universe had other plans for Bellamy and Clarke, once again pulling them away from each other just when things were looking up for them. 

But as Clarke watches the rocket take off without her, she can’t help but feel a sense of pride. They are going to make it; they are going to live.  _ Bellamy is going to live. _

She runs back to Becca’s lab as fast as she can, the wall of fire and destruction fast on her heels. She lands face-first onto the floor, the radiation making her skin bubble. She knows this is it, that this is when the world finally decides that it’s her time to go. 

But as she feels the darkness encroach on her consciousness, slowly pulling her under, she still smiles to herself. Maybe this would be her last breath, but at least everyone she loves is safe. 

No regrets. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! 
> 
> This is the first chapter in a 10-part story. And I'll be posting chapters every Saturday! The first two chapters are from Bellarke's POV, and so are the last two. But the middle chapters are each from a different member of Spacekru's POV. For those of you side-eyeing me right now because of my tendency to update my WIPs at an annoying pace, never fear — 90% of the fic is already written. And the chapters will be on the short side. I'm just spacing out the publishing for angst™ purposes. lol 
> 
> Come scream at me on [Tumblr (@stealing-jasons-job)](https://stealing-jasons-job.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter (MadsWritesStuff)](https://twitter.com/MadsWritesStuff). And don't forget to follow The 100 Fic for BLM initiative on Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr! [Learn more on our carrd.](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)


	2. Year one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy's POV 
> 
> Their first year on the Ring, Bell is wrecked. No matter what his friends say or do, he just can't work up the will to do much other than mourn the loss of Clarke. 
> 
> But at the end of the hardest year of Bellamy's life, he feels hope again. 
> 
> ***Chapter two of my donation celebration fic for [t100 Fic for BLM initiative.](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to the unparalleled Miranda and Poppy for betaing this chapter for me! Y'all are bahsa queens, and you deserve the world.

When Raven says it’s now or never, Murphy has to physically drag Bellamy to his seat on the rocket. His seat that now has an empty one beside it that was meant for Clarke. 

Bellamy tries fighting him at first, needing to stay at the doorway to wait for Clarke to burst through the doors. “No, stop it! She just needs another couple of minutes to make it back.” He has to wait for her. He has to get her up to space with him. He’s not strong enough to close the door without her on board. 

When Murphy doesn’t have luck getting Bellamy to his seat, Echo stands and raises her sword. 

“She was willing to die so that all of us could make it to space. I will not let you ruin that sacrifice.” Her voice is even-keeled, as steady as the blade pointed at Bellamy’s throat. 

His eyes harden as he meets her stare. Bellamy has never hated anyone more than he does the woman in front of him. 

But Monty’s small voice, from where he is barely conscious next to Harper, pulls him away from doing something impulsive, like trying to kill Echo before takeoff. “I don’t want to leave her, either. Clarke would want us to live, Bellamy. You know what she would tell you to do if she were here.” 

Bellamy’s eyes flicker to each of his friends sitting in the rocket. Raven has that determined look in her eyes, the one she gets when she’s shutting out the emotions she’d otherwise be feeling. Clarke has a similar look of her own. Harper isn’t looking at him, her glassy eyes fixed to a spot on the floor in front of her. Monty is barely hanging on to consciousness, fixing Bellamy with a melancholy stare. And Murphy is standing behind Echo, not wearing an ironic smirk for maybe the first time since Bellamy met him. Instead, he looks defeated. 

_ Use your head _ , Clarke had told him just yesterday, her hand over his heart.  _ You’ve got such a big heart, Bellamy. It’s why people follow you; you inspire them. But if we’re going to survive this, you have to use your head, too.  _

Dammit. He takes one last look toward the door, hesitating for just a beat with a final prayer to a god he doesn’t believe in that Clarke would appear in the doorway. The door stays shut, and Bellamy takes a deep breath before hitting the button that locks the rocket’s doors. 

Echo sheaths her sword and takes a seat, and he thinks he sees sympathy cross her features when he walks past her to his own seat. But he just fixes her with a hardened glare.  _ I don’t need your empty sympathy.  _

Raven punches in the necessary codes for takeoff, and Bellamy leans his head back against the headrest. His eyes close against the tears that threaten to fall.  _ You have to be strong for her. She’s not here, which means you have to be the strong one.  _

And so he steels himself against the emotions flooding his system. Get everyone to safety. Be a leader. Survive. 

He repeats that mantra to himself over and over again on the flight. And once they dock on the Ring, instinct and adrenaline take over and he pushes aside everything but the task in front of him — protect his people. 

They get the oxygen up and running just in time. Bellamy assigns tasks out to everyone — sending Raven to check on comms, Harper and Emori to tend to Monty’s injuries, Echo to scout out sleeping arrangements and Murphy to inventory any supplies on the Ring that would be useful. Bellamy gets to work on organizing the things they brought with them — food rations for until Monty can get the algae farm up and running, water, some other medical basics Clarke had insisted on packing from Becca’s lab. 

For the first few weeks, he’s almost on autopilot. Monty’s injuries need regular attention, Raven needs help getting systems up and running, and plans for the next few years need to be made. 

Everyone’s eyes dart to him throughout their days, silently checking on him. He can tell they are worried about him, eyeing him as if they think he might disintegrate into broken pieces of glass at the drop of a hat. No one mentions Clarke, and no one talks about the ground unless it’s in relation to potentially setting up comms with the bunker. 

And as long as Bellamy stays moving, he’s okay. But then things settle, and everyone in space is hit with the realization that they have nothing but time for the next five years. After a while, there is nothing else to do but...live. Monty’s hands are healing, the algae farm will start producing soon, the water filtration system is up and running, responsibilities for maintaining the Ring are divided amongst the group. 

There’s nothing else to fix, no one to protect, no wars to fight. And with nothing to do but let his thoughts wander, the wall keeping Bellamy’s grief at bay crumbles. 

And the flood of despair that consumes Bellamy’s whole body breaks him. 

He stays in his room most of the time, not wanting to see or talk to anyone. And when he does venture out, it’s just to walk the halls while everyone else is sleeping to avoid his own slumber. He hardly eats or sleeps. It’s like he can’t function knowing that Clarke isn’t with him. 

It can’t be healthy, the way he falls apart without her. He knew her for less than a year, and there is this small voice in the back of his mind telling him that he’s being ridiculous for feeling so empty. He’s a grown man who lived without Clarke Griffin for 23 years before she quite literally barged her way into his life, and he could learn to do it again. 

But part of him also knows that he wasn’t truly living before those blue eyes glared at him that first day on the ground. She pushed him, challenged him, and made him want to be better — for her, with her. As he predicted the first time he laid eyes on her, she went and turned his whole world upside down. 

_ No regrets.  _ That’s what she’d said to him that night before Praimfaya. He wonders to himself now if he believes that. Would it have been better to lose her not knowing that she loved him, too? Would it have been easier to live without her if he’d never felt the sensation of her hands gripping his hair, never heard her moan his name in pleasure, never held her naked body in his arms as close as humanly possible? 

Bellamy doesn’t have an answer for that, but goddammit he isn’t sure he’s going to survive the knowing. 

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees her radiant smile as he told her how much she meant to him, he hears her blurt out I love you before he can finish his sentence. 

So he does his damnedest not to close his eyes. Visions that used to be his favorite dreams become his nightmares — Clarke’s ghost haunting him. 

She tells him it’s not his fault, that he did what needed to be done for everyone to survive. She tells him that she’s proud of him for saving their friends, proud that he hasn’t murdered Echo yet. She tells him she loves him. 

And it’s too real and not real enough all at once. It’s a lie, his subconscious trying to make it bearable that he’s here and she’s not. But it doesn’t work because he knows. He  _ knows  _ that this is all his fault, and the last thing he deserves is for any of it to feel bearable. 

He should have never let them split up. He knew it was a bad idea, and he let her go off and leave him again anyway. He should have gone in her place. He should have gone out to look for her when she didn’t make it back when she was supposed to. He should have paid better attention to the fucking road when he was too busy staring at her before he crashed the Rover that got them stuck here at the lab in the first place. 

If he would have done one thing differently, she would be alive. And maybe he’d be standing next to her, or maybe he’d be the one dead on the ground. But either alternative beats her no longer existing. 

Harper tries coaxing him out of his room first. She knocks on his door, cracking it just enough to stick her head in. Bellamy is curled up on the floor with his knees to his chest, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. 

He’s aware that he must look like absolute shit, uneven stubble growing in since he’s stopped shaving regularly, hair a greasy mess, clothes crumpled. His eyes are permanently red every time he looks in the mirror, dark bags sunken in beneath his eyes. 

But she ignores his appearance, coming to sit down in front of him. 

“Echo has decided to start training everyone,” she starts gingerly. He doesn’t bother meeting her eyes or responding. “I thought maybe you’d like to join, get in some sparring?” 

Harper is one of the most, well for lack of a better word, badass women Bellamy has ever met. But she’s also one of the most compassionate, and the apologetic look of sympathy in her eyes is too much. He turns away from her, unable to stand the way she’s looking at him — like he’s broken and she needs to put him back together. 

He doesn’t want to be put back together, doesn’t deserve it. First, he couldn’t protect his mom from all of the skeezy men who would act as if she was an object to pass around in exchange for common decency. Then he couldn’t protect his sister from being locked up like a criminal for the simple crime of existing. Then he couldn’t protect Charlotte or any of the other kids of the 100 that died. And now Clarke. 

She’s just another in a long list of his own personal failures. He doesn’t deserve Harper’s kind smile and gentle invitations. 

After a few minutes of silence, she sighs before getting up to leave. 

Days later, Monty tries. Monty isn’t typically one to push, which means Harper probably sent him. That thought sends him on a spiral by itself. He can picture Monty and Harper curled up together, her telling him that he should check on Bellamy. It’s something Clarke would do if she were here. 

“I know you’re hurting, Bellamy. But she wouldn’t want you to stay cooped up by yourself.” 

Bellamy turns a glare on him. “And how do you know what she would want? Is she here to tell you?” It comes out bitter and rough, his voice hoarse. 

“You know, I put up with Jasper’s bullshit on the ground long enough to build a tolerance to mean things said out of grief,” he points out calmly. It seems Monty is going to be harder to shake than his girlfriend. 

Bellamy sighs. “I recognize that you are all trying to help, that you’re worried about me. But stop. Just leave me in peace.” 

“This,” he gestures at Bellamy and his surroundings, “is not peace. This is self-imposed purgatory.” 

“Then leave me to it.” 

Next is Emori, which shocks Bellamy. She barely knows him. Though maybe the group decided that she was the person he was least likely to openly insult. 

“She saved my life, you know,” she says bluntly, no preamble. He supposes that’s a trait Murphy appreciates about the grounder woman. “Before the rocket, I mean. Roan wanted to use me as the test subject for nightblood and put me in the radiation chamber back at the lab. Clarke grabbed the needle and stuck it in her own arm before they could do anything.” 

The corner of her mouth turns up just slightly, despite the fact that it must be a traumatic memory, and Bellamy can picture the scene so clearly. He closes his eyes, and an image of Clarke with those blue eyes turned to ice appears across the back of his lids. Her and Roan fighting over which is the right thing, Clarke having enough of the argument before taking the needle and jamming it into her own skin. The smirk she’d have given him afterward that reads  _ what are you going to do now?  _

But that just makes his heart hurt worse. Of course she would save Emori’s life, a stranger who may not mean anything to her but who does mean something to Murphy. Just like she saved Echo, despite all the shit she’s pulled against them. 

Meanwhile, he couldn’t save anyone. 

Next is Murphy, about a week later. He stands at the doorway for a long time, just staring at Bellamy. There’s no emotion on his face, just a blank stare, assessing the best course forward. 

“What?” Bellamy finally barks at him.

“I’m not here because I want to be.” Well, at least he was being honest. 

“Then do us both a favor and get out.” 

But Murphy just crosses the room to Bellamy’s bunk and sits down next to him. There’s another stretch of silence, and Bellamy huffs in annoyance. 

“Okay, then at least get on with whatever twisted pep talk you’re about to deliver, Murphy.” 

“You think I’m here to give you a pep talk? What part of my sparkling personality screams pep to you?” Bellamy can’t help but have the corner of his mouth turn up at that. It’s a foreign feeling to him, and he wipes it from his face immediately. 

More silence. 

“If Emori had been the one left behind, I’d be in your shoes,” Murphy admits after a while. Bellamy is shocked that the other is offering that kind of personal information. “Well, I’d probably have found a way to turn Monty’s algae into alcohol to at least numb the pain a bit, but otherwise… I’d be pretty pathetic, too.” 

Bellamy doesn’t respond to that, either. He knows better than to think being an asshole will send Murphy away, but maybe not paying him any attention will. 

But Murphy just settles in, unperturbed by the silence and Bellamy’s lack of participation in the discussion. He even pulls out a small book that had been jammed into his pocket, opening it up to read. 

“What are you doing here, Murphy?” Bellamy asks when he can no longer stand the quiet companionship, his voice tired and defeated. 

“Nothing I say is going to help,” he says plainly, closing his book once again. “You left her behind. Knowing you, you blame yourself despite the fact that Clarke was a grown-ass woman who made her own choices whether anyone else liked them or not. And not a damn thing I, or anyone else trapped on this godforsaken space station for that matter, say is going to change either of those things. Trying to is just a waste of energy. 

“So instead, I’m going to sit here for a while, go back out there, and tell everyone we had a long cry about how much we both miss Clarke. You’re welcome.” 

“We?” Bellamy cocks an eyebrow, shooting Murphy a side-eyed look. The last person on Earth he expected Murphy to miss is Clarke.

Murphy doesn’t comment, opening his book once more and shifting into a more comfortable position. He reads slowly, Bellamy notices, studying him while his eyes scan each line before flipping the pages.

After a while, Bellamy gives up. At least he’ll be quiet. He turns his back to him, curling himself up on his side facing the wall. Maybe with someone else here, blonde waves and that melodious laugh won’t haunt his dreams and he can get some rest. 

Bellamy finds himself drifting off. But before sleep takes him, he hears Murphy’s voice. “You’re not the only one who regrets how he left things with Clarke.” 

His last coherent thought is that he doesn’t regret how he left things with Clarke; he regrets leaving her at all. 

Almost a month later, Echo barged in unannounced one afternoon. “Get up.” 

Bellamy rolls over to look at her blankly. He doesn’t even have the mental energy to yell at her for coming in unannounced. Instead, he just blinks at her. 

“I said, get up.” 

“No.” He rolls back over. 

The room goes quiet, and after a few minutes, Bellamy thinks maybe she just left. Perhaps the others convinced her to try a more no-nonsense approach, and she’d decided that she’d done her duty. 

But then he finds himself falling off the bed, landing with a loud thump and his temple hitting the hard floor. Echo stands over him, arms crossed and eyes void of all emotion. 

“What the fuck?!” he barks out, jumping to his feet with his hands closed in fists. 

Rather than answer him, she spins fast as lightning, her leg whipping out to take his legs out from under him. He falls to the floor even harder this time. 

What looks like a mop handle hits the ground next to him, and he looks up to find that she has one of her own. On instinct, he picks it up and strikes back as he gets to his feet. She dodges easily, but he persists. 

It feels good to move, to lash out. And he takes the opportunity to channel all the anger he’s been feeling — at himself for leaving her behind, at the others for trying to make him feel better, at the universe for being hell-bent on keeping them apart, and at Clarke for telling him she loved him the night before dying on him. 

Echo is a warrior, so it’s unsurprising that most of his blows are blocked. She’s faster, more nimble on her feet, and more skilled with a staff. But he’s got strength on his side, not to mention the rage that he’s currently letting consume him. 

He doesn’t know how long they go toe to toe, but sweat is pouring off of him by the time she knocks him to his feet for the fifth time. He springs back up, only for her to land a blow right across his cheek. 

At that, he releases a strangled scream of hatred and rage. How dare Echo barge into his room for some kind of twisted sparring match? How dare she be here, in his room, when Clarke isn’t. Clarke saved her life on the ground, and it should have been her to go fix the satellite receiver at the tower instead of Clarke. 

He’s had enough of this stupid Azgedan game, and he uses his size to charge her and push her up against the far wall, his mop-handle-turned-staff pressed across her throat. He’s not putting enough pressure on her windpipe to cause any damage, but the threat is there all the same. 

She meets his glare head-on, unflinching at his anger. Instead, she calmly asks, “Feel better?” 

He releases her, stepping back with disgust at the realization that he does. 

“Get out,” he snarls. 

She doesn’t linger, simply shaking her head before walking toward the door. She does stop in the doorway, fixing him with a determined stare. “You sitting here willing yourself to die alongside her makes her sacrifice worthless. Be the man she was willing to give up half of that bunker for.” 

He’s left alone, still panting at the physical activity and covered in sweat. He curses at the fact that he now has to take a shower before laying back down — no doubt part of Echo’s strategy. 

He hates her. 

Finally, Raven comes to talk to him. He’s surprised it took her this long. But then again, she’s studiously avoided all unnecessary interaction with him since they got to the Ring, even in those first weeks when they were all trying to salvage comms and figure out the lay of the station. 

“This has to stop.” Leave it to Raven not to beat around the bush. 

“Raven…” 

“Shut up and let me talk,” she orders at him, which shocks him into silence. “I’ve given you space, tried to let you work out your shit on your own. God knows I was a mess when Finn died. But it’s been almost six months, Bellamy. You have to find a way to move forward. It’s what she would want, and we both know it.” 

“You don’t know shit,” he mutters bitterly, lowering his head into his hands. 

“The fuck I don’t,” she shoots back, giving him a condescending once-over — a Raven specialty. “You don’t have the market cornered on grief and loss, Bellamy. We all lost her. And I know that we didn’t love her the same way you did, but that doesn’t mean we’re not all hurting.” 

It occurs to him then that no one would know that he and Clarke had gotten together that night. That for a few blessed hours, he’d been at peace, with hope that everything would work out. 

“She told me she loved me,” he admits quietly. She walks over to his bedside, her limp less pronounced than he remembers, sitting on his bunk next to him. 

“I know.” He whips his head up at that, and she gives him a rueful smile. “She told me. You had just left to help Monty, and she was about to head for the communications tower. She made me promise that I’d make sure you got to space, that you survived, no matter what happened to her.” 

Equal measures of adoration and anger at Clarke flare up inside of him, warring in his chest for dominance. “She had no right to make you promise that,” he says eventually. 

“Maybe not,” Raven shrugs. “But that didn’t stop her from doing it, and it didn’t stop her from sacrificing herself so that we could all live. And dammit if I’m going to break my promise now because you’ve decided spiraling into self-destruction is a good way to thank her.” 

He sits with that for a moment, and guilt rises in his throat. She’d be so pissed at him if she were here. Granted, if she were here, he wouldn’t be feeling any of this. He’d be happy, at peace with her at his side, and everything would be alright. 

As it is, nothing is alright. 

“You’ve got to find a way to survive. If not for yourself, then for her.” 

“She once told me that life was about more than just surviving,” he says, meeting Raven’s eyes once again. She reaches a hand out to cover his where it rests on the bed between them — a rare show of affection. 

“Then you need to find a reason to live.” 

She doesn’t stay much longer, leaving him to think. He cries himself to sleep that night, their entire relationship playing on repeat in his mind. 

The ice in her eyes when he called her Princess the first time, mocking Finn’s pet name. The way she took the knife out of his hands, humming to Atom while she stroked his hair and cut his carotid. Her looking him in the eye to tell him that she needed him, that he mattered and not just because of his sister. All the times she told Jaha or Kane or her Mom where they could shove their orders. Her colliding into him when he walked back through the Camp Jaha gates, the precise moment he realized he was well and truly gone for her. And every single moment that followed. 

He dreams of her, too. They’re both sitting on a porch swing in front of a cabin on Earth, presumably one that they’d made together. She kisses him softly and tells him that she loves him, that she’ll always love him. Then she tells him to get up. 

And the next morning, he does what she told him to. He gets out of bed, takes a shower, and walks to the mess hall. Everyone’s eyes are on him, but no one comments. Monty just passes him a bowl of algae, and they all converse amongst themselves as if he isn’t there. 

After that, he picks himself back up a little. There’s still a Clarke-sized hole in his chest, and every smile and joke he tries to land still feels a bit empty. But he’ll get there, eventually. Monty finds a way to make booze — Bellamy doesn’t want to know how — and he uses that to numb the pain on nights when he can’t sleep. He trains alongside the rest of them with Echo and helps Raven with the maintenance of the ship. 

He can tell everyone is still worried about him, but at least he’s functional. And like he said, he’ll get there eventually. 

That is, until almost a year into their stay on the Ring. He and Murphy are sparring, bored with nothing else to do, when he sees it. He’s got Murphy pinned down against the window, joking with him about tapping out when something catches his eye. 

There’s a small patch of green on the otherwise barren wasteland of Earth below them. Trees, plants, water...life. 

Hope flares in his soul, something he hasn’t felt in a year now. He lets Murphy go, standing up straighter to squint out the window. He does the mental math in his head, trying to think of what month it would be and where that patch of green might be located. 

Raven. Raven would know. With Murphy calling out behind him, he takes off at a run to find the others. 

Clarke could have survived. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed Ch. 2! The next few chapters will be shorter and from assorted Spacekru member's POVs. 
> 
> Come scream at me on [Tumblr (@stealing-jasons-job)](https://stealing-jasons-job.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter (MadsWritesStuff)](https://twitter.com/MadsWritesStuff). And don't forget to follow The 100 Fic for BLM initiative on Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr! [Learn more on our carrd.](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)


	3. The Ring: Years two-four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy is sure that Clarke is alive down on Earth, that she somehow survived and made it to Eden. But the others on the Ring are worried about him. What if he's wrong? Would he survive losing Clarke again?

###  **Year two**

Harper had never been particularly close to Clarke or Bellamy on the ground. She’d fought alongside Bellamy, and she’d been in Mt. Weather alongside Clarke for a while. But really, Monty was closer to both of them while she stayed at the edges of that core “delinquent” group. 

But even as somewhat of an outsider, she knows how Bellamy and Clarke had felt about each other. It was obvious, the way they fought back and forth one moment and risked everything to protect the other in the next. The way Bellamy had shut down after Clarke left following the Mt. Weather massacre. The way they could have an entire conversation with just their eyes—something that no one else could ever understand. 

It took Harper a while to stop comparing their relationship to her and Monty’s. It is ridiculous really, to compare her and Monty to Bellamy and Clarke—two people who never even dated before Clarke went off and got herself killed in the name of protecting them all one last time. 

But she does it all the same. They were two of the strongest people she’s ever met, both fierce in their own ways. The kind of people that others follow, an intimidating pair who could accomplish anything—even the impossible task of keeping a group of teenage delinquents alive after they crash land on Earth as some sort of experiment. 

And watching one of the strongest people she knows fall apart those first six months on the Ring? Excruciating. It made her hold onto Monty a little tighter at night, appreciate his presence beside her a little more. Maybe the whole star-crossed epic love story is overrated after all. 

Of course, then Bellamy bursts into the mess hall area with this wild look in his eyes. Harper recognizes it immediately—hope. 

“She’s alive,” he sputters, a little frantic and out of breath. 

“What? Bellamy, you’re not making sense. Who’s alive?” Harper asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Monty has figured out how to ferment the algae into booze, thinking it would help Bellamy sleep at night, but Harper worries about how much he is drinking these days. 

“Clarke.” 

Everyone’s heads whip toward him at that. 

“Bellamy…Clarke died during praimfaya” she starts slowly, elbowing a silent Monty beside her for backup. 

“Even if the nightblood worked, the planet was decimated. There’s no way someone could have survived this long without food and water—not even Clarke,” he explains sympathetically. 

But Bellamy just shakes his head, a smile blooming across it. It’s the first one that Harper’s seen on his face in a year, and her heart breaks that it’s under the present circumstances. 

She locks eyes with Emori, who’s sitting across from her at the table. Harper can tell what the other is thinking, that Bellamy must have reached a new level of drunkness if he’s hallucinating Clarke. 

He’s been better in recent months. Not fully himself, but at least functional. She hopes that the next phase isn’t a drunken one.

“Bellamy, where did you see Clarke?” Harper asks hesitantly. 

“See her? No, that’s not...fuck, just follow me.” He turns around and rushes out as fast as he’d entered. Harper, Emori, and Monty exchange wide-eyed stares, but all three get up to follow him. 

By the time they all catch up, he’s already mid-argument with Raven. 

“You can’t just assume that she’s made it because one section of Earth wasn’t burned, Bellamy,” she snaps at him impatiently. He runs a hand through his grown-out curls, turning back to stare out the window.

“Just give me the calculations, Raven,” he huffs back. Murphy is leaned up against the wall looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, and Harper raises her eyebrows at him for an explanation. 

“Apparently a patch of green survived praimfaya.” He doesn’t give any more detail, but Harper fills in the blanks pretty easily. If a patch of green survived, he thinks Clarke could have survived, too. He just needs to know if the calculations put that patch of green in the vicinity of Becca’s lab. 

Raven’s gone quiet. She’s staring a hole into the side of Bellamy’s head, obviously debating whether or not to tell him. Harper feels Monty let go of her hand and watches as he slowly steps toward the window to get a look for himself. 

Harper follows, and sure enough, there’s a small patch of lush green in the midst of the barren wasteland that now encompasses the Earth. 

“Based on how long we’ve been in space, the speed of Earth’s rotation, and our own orbit, that’s the Northwestern hemisphere,” Monty says softly. Raven’s eyes shoot to him, anger flashing. For a split second, his eyes flash to Harper’s—and she melts a little at the heartbreak she sees within them. “If it were me, I’d want to know.” 

That pretty much ends the discussion, and soon the group disperses back to their own activities. 

After that, it’s like Bellamy is a new person. He’s up before everyone else on the Ring—even Echo. He runs laps with Harper, he helps Murphy teach Raven how to play football, he spends time with Monty adjusting the algae recipe. 

Finding that tiny patch of green was like flipping a switch in Bellamy. He’s organized and focused, determined to keep everyone alive and well and healthy. 

Harper can tell that his optimism is pissing off most everyone else, but she’s just glad to have him back. She’s missed his jokes and his sarcasm. She’s also missed his leadership. He’d always been their guiding star when the 100 needed inspiration to keep going. And that’s definitely needed on the Ring. 

Murphy, Raven, and Echo obviously don’t agree with that sentiment. Raven bickers with him every chance she gets, and Murphy’s mood continues to decline the longer Bellamy’s improves. Echo just avoids him entirely. 

“Do you think it was the right thing to tell him?” Monty asks one night when they’re curled up together. She puts down the book she was reading to look up at him. When she doesn’t say anything immediately, he keeps going, “I’m worried I made a mistake, that Raven was right to hesitate.” 

“He deserved to know,” Harper says simply, and it’s the truth. 

“Maybe so, but what if this ends up destroying him?” She can hear how worried he is for his friend. His voice is quiet, and he’s not meeting her eyes—instead just staring up at the ceiling of their room. 

Harper props herself up with her elbow, reaching out with her other hand to cup Monty’s cheek and force him to meet her eyes. “What if it’s what keeps him alive?” 

He shakes his head, dispelling her hand from where it had rested against his face. “I told Raven that I would have wanted to know if the roles had been reversed. And I wasn’t lying. But now I can’t help but think about how knowing it was possible for you to survive and then finding out you didn’t would make everything so much worse.” 

Harper thinks about that for a moment, trying to come up with something to say that would make him feel better. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter if it was a mistake or not—what’s done is done. But that’s never been a sentiment Monty’s been keen on hearing. 

“If anyone could manage to survive a nuclear apocalypse and find the one speck of green on an otherwise decimated planet, it’s Clarke.” That pulls a smile out of him, albeit short-lived. 

“I used to think she was invincible when we first got to the ground,” he murmurs, his eyes turned back to the ceiling—glassy as if living in a memory. “I used to think they both were. And then praimfaya happened.” 

“There was a time when I’d lost all hope for the future. You helped me see beyond that, and that’s how we’re both here right now. Hope isn’t a bad thing.” 

His eyes flicker to meet hers. “I think this time it might be.” 

Harper knows how dangerous hope is. But she also knows how it’s almost impossible to survive without it. And in truth, she doesn’t think there’s any way that Clarke could have survived Praimfaya—patch of green or not. 

But if that hope is what’s going to keep Bellamy alive with that light in his eyes once more, she’s not going to question it. They need a leader up in space; they need Bellamy. And Bellamy needs to believe that Clarke is still alive. 

###  **Year three**

To be honest, Raven didn’t expect this optimistic stint of Bellamy’s to last. He’d never been particularly optimistic when they were on the ground. And while he was certainly more “glass half full” than Clarke had ever been, Raven always suspected it was more for her benefit than because he actually believed any of them would make it to peace. 

But here they are, a few months into their third year on the Ring, and Bellamy is still as convinced as ever that Clarke is alive down on the ground, waiting for them on that little patch of green. 

She’s worried about him. Even if Clarke hadn’t made her swear on her life that she’d look after Bellamy—step up to help him lead if the unthinkable were to happen—she’d be concerned for her friend. 

He’s more himself these days, more like the old Bellamy than he has been since they left Earth. He’s helping her coordinate chore shifts and teasing Murphy and sparring with Echo and helping Emori learn how to fight one-handed. He and Murphy found a library in one of the rooms, and he’s torn through most of those books at this point. 

But the combination of his continued optimism and him acting more like the Bellamy she became friends with on the ground is exactly what worries her. Because from the looks of it, he really seems to believe that Clarke survived praimfaya. 

Sure, Bellamy can convince himself that Clarke is alive. And maybe that hope can get him through the rest of the time they’re stuck on the Ring. But what happens when they all get back? What happens when they land only to find her decomposed body in Becca’s lab? What happens when he spends five years building up this imaginary picture of Clarke in his mind only to have that ripped away again? 

She doesn’t talk to Bellamy about it. She can’t. 

For starters, this is all kind of her fault. She told him to go and find a reason to live, and he’d done just that. Of course, she was picturing more along the lines of “live so that I can see my sister again” rather than “conjure an elaborate story that the love of my life somehow survived the world’s second nuclear apocalypse,” but it was her fault for not specifying. 

But more so than that, she’s tried once and knows exactly what he’ll say if she prods him about it again.  _ I can feel it, Raven. The second I saw that patch of green, I could just feel it in my bones that she’s alive down there somewhere.  _

And she wants to believe him, she does. She wants more than anything for Clarke to be alive, for him to be right in all this. 

God, she misses Clarke. She misses the way she would take charge of a situation without hesitation. It’s a trait Raven hated on the ground, but now that she’s not here to make any of the hard decisions, Raven’s starting to realize just how valuable it was to have her there willing to take the burden on herself. 

She also misses her sense of humor, that morbid humor it seemed only she and Bellamy truly understood. She missed how she never let Murphy off the hook and how she kept Bellamy from doing anything too stupid. Differences and frustrations aside, Clarke had been family to Raven in a life where that was in short supply. 

And Raven knows it’s even worse for Bellamy. She remembers what it was like to have hope you’ll see someone again, to dream of what it’ll be like. And she also knows what it’s like for that hope to be ripped away, to realize with startling clarity that the love of your life is dead. 

God, she remembers what she felt when Finn died, the black hole that ripped itself through her body, consuming her with rage one moment and numbness the next. She still feels his loss every single day. 

And that means she knows the pain and grief that lies ahead for Bellamy, which will only be made worse by delaying the inevitable. 

So yeah, she can’t talk to Bellamy about it. But that doesn’t mean she can sit back and do nothing. She has a promise to keep and what little family she has left to look out for. 

She calls a Spacekru family meeting, sans Bellamy. Keeping it from Positive Polly is a struggle (she swears he picked up some of Clarke’s nosiness on the ground), but they decide to wait until he’s asleep (with added help thanks to a batch of Monty’s algae moonshine) to convene. 

“Why, pray tell, are we having a family meeting in the middle of the night?” Murphy grumbles, plopping into a chair and pulling Emori down on his lap. Raven rolls her eyes at him, electing to ignore his commentary while everyone else gathers around the table. 

Once everyone has settled into their seats, Raven takes hers, straddling one of the picnic-table style benches to face the group. 

“We’ve got to figure out what we’re going to do about Bellamy,” she opens with no preamble. There’s no use beating around the metaphorical bush. 

“Did something happen?” Harper asks, concerned as ever. Monty leans forward at that, eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

“Nothing new, no. But guys, it’s been over two years since Praimfaya, since Clarke’s death. And it’s been a year since Bellamy saw that patch of green and decided that it meant Clarke was alive and well down there, something we all know isn’t true. We’ve got to figure out how to snap him out of this.” 

Everyone stays quiet for a while, meeting each other’s eyes. She can’t tell what any of them are thinking, and she crosses her arms over her chest, not willing to budge until someone speaks up. 

“We don’t actually know,” Emori finally says, voice hesitant. 

“What?” 

“You said that we all know it isn’t true. And we don’t actually know,” she sighs, voice more sure this time. Raven’s been spending more time with Emori as of late, and they had a lot in common. But Emori is a romantic at heart, not unlike Bellamy. 

“The chances of Clarke surviving the initial wave of radiation and then finding a way to traverse the desert to find that valley is infinitesimally small.” They’ve been over this a million times, running the scenarios of whether Clarke really could have made it. Bellamy had Raven and Monty both run the projections at least three times each during that first week after he’d spotted Eden, as he’s now calling it. And while it isn’t impossible that Clarke had made it, they all know that it’s far from the most likely outcome. 

Raven opens her mouth to argue with her, but Monty beats her to it. “I agree with Raven. He needs to let the past go if he has any hope of moving on.” 

“You don’t just move on from your soulmate,” Harper jumps in, giving him a hard look that Raven can’t quite decipher. She’s admitted to Raven before that she doesn’t think that Clarke could have survived, so it’s odd that she’s arguing the point, but Raven doesn’t dwell on it. 

Instead, her eyes dart to Echo at the declaration. She knows Echo has a thing for Bellamy—has had a thing for Bellamy since he helped her break out of Mt. Weather. And while it’s obvious that Bellamy is still in love with Clarke, Raven suspects Echo imagines he’ll move on eventually—to her. 

Raven still hasn’t told them that he and Clarke hooked up the night before Praimfaya, that one of the reasons Bellamy’s having such a hard time with this is because for one cursed night she’d been his before being ripped away. 

She debates saying something every few days, but Clarke’s admission was made in confidence and it doesn’t seem like Bellamy is keen to share with the class, so she keeps it to herself. 

“Maybe not, but imagine how devastated he’s going to be when he pines after an imaginary version of Clarke for five years, only to find out he was wrong,” Monty counters, pulling his hand back from where it is connected with Harper’s on the counter. “We all remember those first six months, and it would be worse the second time around. I don’t know if he’d survive it.” 

Raven sighs, her head dropping into her hands. She hates this, everyone disagreeing. They’ll have to make a decision at some point, and she has a sinking feeling it’s going to come down to her. 

“Look, as much as I can’t stand his unrelenting positivity these days, this is preferable to the alternative,” Murphy chimes in. “Believing Clarke is alive is what’s keeping him alive, and none of us are stupid enough to think we’d survive without him. I don’t know about you guys, but I’ll suffer through Upbeat Betty for a few years if it means making it back to the ground.”    
  
Raven rolls her eyes at him—of course, he figures out a way to make this about him. “Can you at least pretend to think of someone other than yourself for like two seconds, Murph?” 

He just smirks at her, that slow Cheshire grin that makes her want to slap him. “In this case, my line of thinking also keeps you alive, so...you’re welcome.” 

“You’re not being helpful, John,” Emori chastises, elbowing him from her seat on his leg. His eyes soften for just a fraction of a second when he looks at her before he raises his hands in mock surrender at Raven. 

“Are we sure we can’t get comms up and running? Someone from the bunker could potentially put on a suit and go searching for her,” Harper suggests. “Then at least he could have proof. And Octavia could maybe help him through it.” 

“No comms,” Ravens says flatly. It’s been a sore spot for her, this failure. The debris in the atmosphere from praimfaya has cleared up enough that it shouldn’t be an interference issue. But who knows what kind of damage the satellites on the ground sustained during the death wave? 

There’s also a part of Raven that wonders if the bunker even held up to the radiation. It’s a possibility she doesn’t like to think about, both because she has people in that bunker she cares about and because she knows Bellamy most definitely won’t survive losing both Clarke and Octavia. 

To be fair, she isn’t sure she’d survive the seven of them being the last of humanity. 

“Could we send down a pod of some kind?” Harper throws out with a shrug of her shoulders. 

“Yes, because this floating chunk of rusted metal is brimming with technology like remote-controlled drones. Sending 100 delinquents to check out Earth’s survivability rather than drones was just for the entertainment factor,” Murphy shoots back, sarcasm dripping from every word. 

Emori elbows him again, which thankfully shuts him up. The group falls into silence for a few minutes, no one knowing what to say. 

But then Echo’s voice slices through the quiet, shocking the hell out of Raven. “He needs to keep believing she’s alive.” 

She takes a moment to meet each and every one of their eyes, meeting Raven’s last. Echo has kept to herself mostly on the Ring, really only interacting with them during sparring rounds. But Raven’s not stupid; she sees how Echo stares at Bellamy when he leaves the room. And it’s unlike her to want to coddle anyone—especially when it’s not in her best interest to do so. 

Murphy voices her thoughts, though will his typical lack of decorum. “Not that I’m complaining about you agreeing with me, but I figured you’d be team ‘convince Bellamy to move on.’ You know, for obvious reasons.” 

If looks could kill, Murphy would be a goner. But after fixing him with an icy stare, she just turns back to Raven with a little shrug, something akin to defeat settling across her features. 

“I know what it’s like to have to live a lie in order to survive.” 

That pretty much ends any and all discussion, and Raven kicks herself for making this a group discussion. 

She spends the rest of the night walking aimlessly around the Ring, unable to sleep. After a while, she finds herself at the same window where Bellamy had first seen Eden. 

Looking down at the Earth—Eden just barely visible tonight—she heaves a deep sigh. 

“You had better be alive down there, Clarke,” she murmurs to the glass, knowing Clarke can’t hear her but needing the words to be spoken aloud all the same. “For Bellamy’s sake, please be alive. Because I honestly don’t think he’s making it out of this without you.” 

###  **Year four**

Echo knows that she shocked the others by saying they should let Bellamy continue believing Clarke is alive. She knows they are all worried about him, and she knows Raven well enough at this point to know that the other woman had expected Echo to fall on her side. 

But the others don’t hear him talk to that damned radio every night. 

The first time she’d heard him was back during their second year. Their rooms didn’t share a wall, but a vent of some sort must connect them in some way because his voice filters into her space on quiet nights when sleep refuses to take her. 

“Hey Clarke, it’s me. I don’t know if you can hear me right now. Raven says you probably can’t. Something about satellite damage and radiation interference. You know I’m shit with the technical stuff. But just in case she’s wrong...well, hey I guess. 

“I really should have planned out what I was going to talk about ahead of time. Updates could be a good place to start. Monty and Harper are good. Murphy is still a pain in the ass—I doubt that will change in the next four years. Emori and Echo are starting to join in with the group more. I still can’t believe you convinced me to let Echo on that rocket, but I’m glad you did. She’ll be a good ally back on the ground. Raven is still Raven, just as stubborn and headstrong as ever. You two have that in common.” 

He’d dragged on for almost an hour, and Echo listened silently to this broken man talk to a broken radio in the hopes that a dead girl would hear him back on a broken planet. 

That night was the moment she’d known Bellamy Blake would never be hers. 

She’d had a thing for him when they knew each other on the ground, though she’d known that she could never have him so long as she was a spy for Azgeda and he was Wanheda’s right hand. 

But when they first got to space, she thought perhaps she could reinvent herself as the kind of person who could be his. She doesn’t believe that anymore. 

Echo tries not to be resentful of the blonde. It does her no good to be jealous of a dead woman, after all, and Clarke had saved her life when Bellamy would have likely let her die in Praimfaya without losing any sleep. But the nights she hears Bellamy talk to that radio make it hard. 

“Hey, Clarke. It’s me. It’s been 1,579 days since Praimfaya and four days since our last Murphy incident. I’m really starting to worry about him. God, I wish you were here. You’d know exactly what to say or do to get him to pull his head out of his ass. 

“Who am I kidding,” he chuckles quietly to himself. “Murphy is very low on the very long list of reasons why I wish you were here. I swear in just about six months or so we’ll be able to come back to the ground—I’ll be able to come back home to you. Maybe this time around the universe will take a break from trying to pull us apart.” 

It doesn’t take long for Echo to work out that Bellamy and Clarke were much more than co-leaders and friends on the ground. Granted, she’s always known that Bellamy was devoted to Clarke in a way that went deeper than a partnership or even a warrior and his commander. 

But as far as she can tell, none of the others on the Ring know that Bellamy and Clarke were lovers too. 

It makes sense when she thinks about it. The Bellamy she met on the ground was stoic, unbreakable. But in the middle of the night on the Ring, she hears a very different side of him. This Bellamy is a romantic, softer around the edges. 

He tells Clarke stories about the constellations he can see from his skylight, wondering if she can see the same ones. He talks about the books he’s read and his favorite passages. He shares his worries about the others, especially Murphy. He talks about his sister and his mom and his childhood. He makes cheesy jokes and every now and again hums a lullaby off-key until he falls asleep. 

A small part of her feels guilty for not telling him that she can hear. But she also can’t bring herself to broach the subject with him. He’s different when they’re awake—focused and eternally optimistic. At night, she feels like she’s getting to hear bits and pieces of the real him. 

The darkness in her chest—that piece of coal that lodged itself into her heart when she killed Echo all those years ago—whispers that she’s getting a piece of him that not even Clarke ever got to know. 

She pushes those thoughts deep down, storing them away next to the guilt and heartbreak that’s amassed over the years that she’s never allowed herself to feel. 

The closer they get to G-Day, as Bellamy is calling it (some old Earth historical reference no one else but Murphy understands), the more often he talks about the future—their future. 

“When I get back, we’re going to build a cabin at the edge of Eden. You can pick any spot you want, Princess. It’ll have a porch swing, and we’ll make sure Raven fixes it up with a radio so that people can call us if they need to. I’ll get Monty to help set up a garden, and we’ll build a small memorial for Wells and your dad and my mom around back. 

“We’ll finally make ourselves a home on the ground, and not a thing in the world will be able to pull me away from you this time.” 

These are the nights that make her heart ache for something it’s never had. They’re also the nights that make her understand why Raven is so worried about what will happen to him once he’s forced to confront the fact that Clarke is really dead. 

Echo knows what it’s like to need a lie to survive. She’s been clinging to her own for almost her entire life. 

Then again, she and Bellamy are different people—his nightly radio calls prove that beyond a shadow of a doubt. Bellamy feels things with his whole heart, his whole body. Some days, she doesn’t think she can feel anything at all anymore. If her lie crumbled around her, she’d find something new to hold onto—a new mask to wear or a new mantle to take up. 

But if Bellamy finds out that the lie he’s been leaning on for survival the past four years is just that, would he be able to pick up the pieces? She wants to say yes—he’s always been one of the strongest people she’s ever known. But then again, if anything could make him break, it would be losing Clarke Griffin yet again—and this time with no lies left to hold onto. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to the amazing Miranda and Poppy for betaing this chapter for me! You may have noticed that I shorted the total chapters to six instead of 10. Each of the middle years in Spacekru's POVs is shorter, and it seemed unfair to make you guys wait a whole week between those. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 Come scream at me on [Tumblr (@stealing-jasons-job)](https://stealing-jasons-job.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter (MadsWritesStuff)](https://twitter.com/MadsWritesStuff). And don't forget to follow The 100 Fic for BLM initiative on Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr! [Learn more on our carrd.](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)


	4. Coming home: Years five and six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the years pass and they get closer to being able to go home, Bellamy remains convinced Clarke is alive. And the others continue to worry about him. What will happen if they get back to Earth and find out she really is gone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me, completely losing track of what day it was and forgetting to post this on schedule yesterday. I mean, would it really be a Mads fic if there wasn't at least one misfire with my posting schedule? lol 
> 
> Anyway, reminder that this fic is part of the donation celebration that [t100fic4blm initaiative](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/) put on after hitting a donation goal back during the series finale! Check out our carrd to learn more about how you can support BLM through fic and fanart prompts. <3

###  Year five

Emori didn’t know Bellamy and Clarke well before she became indebted to one for eternity for saving her life and trapped in space for at least five years with the other. But she’s certainly gotten to know Bellamy over the years on The Ring, and by association, Clarke, too. 

As somewhat of an outsider, it’s been interesting to hear about each of them from the others—as individuals and as a pair. 

Their first night on the Ring, Emori had asked John about what Clarke meant to Bellamy. She’d known that they were close, partners. That much she could tell from their limited time together on the ground. But the way Bellamy had reacted to the idea of her not making it back to the rocket on time...that was a reaction of a lover, not a friend. 

“Bellamy and Clarke are—well,  _ were _ ...inevitable,” John had said, propping himself up on one elbow in their shared bed. “Those two were something out of a fucking fairytale. The constant bickering followed immediately with one sacrificing themselves for the other no matter what it meant for the rest of us.” 

“So they were a couple?” 

John had just chuckled, laying back down and looking up at the ceiling. “The number of times one of the delinquents joked about them fucking and putting us all out of our misery. But no, they hadn’t gotten their heads out of their asses, yet.” After a pause, “I guess now they won’t have the chance.” 

Emori thought he had actually looked sad at the prospect. She knows his relationship with Clarke had been complicated at best, but then—everyone’s relationships on the Ring were complicated. 

Over the years, Clarke has become a bit of a legend on the Ring. The first couple of years on the Ring, John would say he wouldn’t be surprised if CLarke survived on that stupid patch of green—if anyone could survive a nuclear apocalypse and five years apart, it would be Clarke and Bellamy. Of course, they aren’t currently on speaking terms, so she can’t ask John if he still feels that way. The only person he lets talk to him is Bellamy. 

Raven is someone else with a complicated history with Clarke. Four and a half years into their stay on the Ring, and her opinion hasn’t changed: she believes Clarke is dead and that Bellamy is in for a devastating realization in less than a year. Echo doesn’t talk about it, or anything, much. But Emori doesn’t miss the way she stares after Bellamy sometimes, the way she trains a little harder when he’s the one she’s sparring with. Emori almost feels sad for her; even if Clarke is dead, she can’t see Bellamy ever truly moving on from her ghost. 

Thankfully, though, the topic of Clarke is rarely the conversation. After so long on the Ring, it’s just become a background to their daily dynamic. They take care of chores, they spar, they drink Monty’s god-awful algae, they take turns dealing with John, and they systematically avoid mentioning Clarke’s name. 

To be honest, Emori admires Bellamy for his devotion to Clarke, his unrelenting hope that she’s alive. Maybe it’s a lie he’s using to survive, or maybe he truly believes it deep down. She doesn’t know which, but she’s impressed regardless. 

Hell, she and John couldn’t make their love last for five years when they were actually together and safe. She has no idea how Bellamy is holding on after all this time. 

One night after everyone else has long gone to sleep, Emori finds herself walking the halls of the Ring. She avoids John’s corridors, instead gravitating to the massive window that overlooks the Earth. 

Bellamy is already there, a bottle of Monty’s algae moonshine in one hand as he leans up against the window. For a moment, Emori considers turning back the way she came. But then Bellamy turns and sees her, and a small smile tilts at the corners of his mouth. He reaches his hand out, offering a sip of the moonshine. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks, accepting the bottle as she leans against the other side of the window. 

“I didn’t want to miss Eden.” He nods out toward Earth, and Emori follows his gaze. The Earth really is beautiful from space, though right now the side facing them was shrouded in darkness. 

They stand together for a while, silently passing the bottle back and forth. But eventually curiosity takes over, and Emori can’t help but ask the question she’s been dying to for years now. 

“How can you be so sure that she’s alive down there?” 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring down at the patch of green just barely visible in the dark. “She has to be,” he murmurs, so soft that Emori almost doesn’t hear him say it. 

Emori wonders what he was like on the ground. She’d only had a few interactions with him before they left for the Ring, and they’d been in the hurried midst of preparations for the rocket. But from the way the others talk about him, he was a very different man. Arrogant, hot-headed, headstrong. 

But on the Ring, he’s a romantic pining after the woman he loves. And while Emori has grown to love this version of Bellamy like a brother, she wonders if he’ll revert once they’re back on the ground—with or without Clarke. 

“What happens if she’s not?” she asks hesitantly. He runs a hand through his grown-out curls, not taking his eyes off of the window. 

“She has a piece of me—she’s  _ had _ a piece of me—since our first days on the ground. And I know that piece is still alive out there somewhere. It’s hard to explain, but I can just feel it.” 

There’s conviction in his voice, conviction that Emori isn’t sure she’s ever felt about anything in her life. “I admire you, you know,” she admits after another stretch of silence. 

He meets her eyes at that, eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion. “The others think I’ve lost it.” 

“Maybe you have, I don’t know,” she chuckles, passing the bottle back to him. He grins at her before downing the last of moonshine. “But you’re just so  _ sure _ about Clarke. I’m a little jealous of that kind of surety in a relationship. Hell, I thought John was it for me, but you know how that turned out.” 

Bellamy rolls his eyes at the mention of John. It’s obvious the two have a bond of some sort—Bellamy is the only one who can interact with him these days without incident. But he doesn’t hide his exasperation over how John’s been acting the past few months. 

“I’m not 100% sure about me and Clarke’s relationship. Who knows if we’re built to last romantically—hell, we’ve never had time to breathe, nonetheless figure out who we are without the threat of war or the apocalypse looming over our heads.” 

“But you have a lot of faith for a guy who claims to not be sure,” Emori argues. 

“I don’t know if we’ll be together when it’s all said and done. But I do know she’s alive.” He looks back out to the Earth, where Eden is fading out of their viewpoint as they move in opposite directions. “And as long as she’s out there somewhere existing...I can live with the fallout of the rest. She just needs to live.” 

There’s hope in his voice that Emori has never once experienced herself—an unwavering sort of loyalty to the idea that she survived and that everything else will be okay because of that. 

Emori prays that he’s right. These days, they could all use a miracle to remind them that there’s more to life than an endless pursuit for survival. 

###  Year six 

Monty is worried for his friend. 

The five-year mark hits, and Raven informs them that there’s still no way for them to get back to the ground with their current fuel stores. Everyone’s eyes immediately dart to Bellamy, who noticeably tenses but otherwise doesn’t outwardly react. 

Of course, that night Monty went to check on him and found him drunk with Murphy. He’s really starting to regret sharing the algae moonshine with the two of them. 

It had been hard to see Bellamy in pain that first year — and even harder to watch him numb that pain with Monty’s moonshine. But he knew that grief takes time, and he figured that was just Bellamy’s way of working through it. Bellamy would have eventually learned to live with that grief the way Monty had eventually learned to live with the grief of Jasper’s death. 

Granted, Monty knows Bellamy’s feelings for Clarke are a little different than his for Jasper. The two may have never been an official couple, but anyone who spent any amount of time with them could tell that they were made for each other—the yin to each other’s yang, so to speak. But regardless, he had been confident in that first year that Bellamy would eventually move past it. 

Now, Monty isn’t so sure. Bellamy’s been telling himself that Clarke’s alive for over four years, and no one knows how he’s going to react when they get back to the ground and find out that she’s gone for good. 

The further into their sixth year they get, the shorter of a fuse Bellamy has. He snaps at everyone for the smallest things, and Raven threatens to banish him to Murphy’s side of the Ring if he doesn’t calm down. 

He spends his days brainstorming the fuel problem, as if he’ll magically think up a solution that Raven can’t by sheer force of will. The group decides to put a “swear jar” in place for chores. If anyone mentions Clarke or the fuel issue while in public spaces, you draw one of the “undesirable” chores from the can to be your job for a week. 

That helps a little, but Monty knows it’s done nothing to tamp down on his obsession with getting back to Clarke. His sister and one of his closest friends are both waiting for him in the bunker, but his focus remains on the one person who most likely isn’t going to be there when they touch down. 

Monty doesn’t know if Bellamy will recover from the loss of Clarke after so many years of convincing himself she’s alive. 

“I think I should try talking to him,” he murmurs almost inaudibly one night as he stares at the ceiling in his and Harper’s room. It isn’t even necessarily directed at her—she’s curled on her side away from him. But she must still be awake, too, because she turns over to look at him. 

“Do you think it’ll make a difference?” 

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “But I feel like I have to try. He’s like a brother to me. And every day we get closer to potentially returning to Earth, he gets more excited and I get more anxious about what we might find waiting for us.” 

“Monty, you have to have some faith that things will all work out,” she says, scooting closer to rest a hand on his chest. He takes her hand in his, trying to let her touch soothe some of the ache. 

“But what if it doesn’t? What happens when we find her body buried in the rubble of Becca’s lab? What happens when he kills himself searching every square inch of that patch of green and never finds her? What happens when he realizes she’s actually gone, that he spent over five years believing a lie?” 

“Put yourself in his shoes.” 

“No,” he shoots back immediately, his hand tightening around hers. 

Harper’s face softens as she looks at him. She’s one of the strongest people he knows, someone who could hit a moving target from farther away than even Bellamy, he’d wager. But damn, her eyes hold the key to something inside of him when they look at him like that. 

“Wouldn’t you want to have some hope for as long as you could? Wouldn’t you want to believe that somehow everything would work out? I know I would.” 

“Maybe,” he admits. “But I also think if the roles were reversed, Bellamy would have kicked my ass by now. Clarke, too, now that I think about it.” 

She smirks. “If anything, I think the past five years have proven that Bellamy is more of a romantic than any of us ever gave him credit for. If the roles were reversed, they’d be having this exact conversation—except Bellamy would be the one convincing Clarke to let you hold onto hope.” 

Monty can’t help but smile a little at the thought of Bellamy and Clarke bickering lovingly over how to deal with the rest of them—especially Murphy. Bellamy would definitely be the romantic out of the two of them. The heart to the head. 

He closes his eyes, heaving a sigh. 

“Bellamy is strong, and he’s surrounded by people who love him. If the worst happens and she really is dead, we’ll help him through it. It’ll suck and it’ll be the hardest thing he’s ever had to go through, but he’ll survive. Clarke made sure of that.” 

He lets that thought comfort him into some semblance of sleep. Maybe everything would go to hell the second they touched down on Earth one day, but they’d make it through like they do everything these days—together as a family. 

###  Going back 

It takes more than six years, but they’re finally strapping in to head back to Earth. Granted, they’re headed into a potential warzone with a crew from the Eligius ship that’s currently orbiting next to the Ring. But Murphy is just glad to be off that damn floating hunk of metal. 

The past six years have been hell. For so long, Murphy’s been in it for survival. It’s the one thing he’s good at. To suddenly have that taken away from him? It was harder than he figured it would be. 

Everyone else was horrible to be around. It was like they were all enjoying being back up in space, forming a happy little family. Meanwhile, all he could think about was all of the shit he did when he was on Earth, all of the people they’d left behind. 

Bellamy was the only one who ever got it. It was like he was the only other person on the Ring who thought there was more to life than the walls of what was left of the Ark. Earth may have been hell, but at least Murphy can see a future there. And Bellamy can, too. 

That’s it’s own set of worms, though. As much as Murphy was glad to have someone else who was pushing for a way to get off the Ring, Bellamy’s only a rocket ride away from having to come to terms with one of two scenarios: Clarke being dead-dead, or Clarke being alive and probably traumatized from being alone for six years. A “pick your poison” situation if he’s ever heard one. 

“So, what are you going to do if Clarke is actually still alive?” Murphy asks him as they strap in, Emori readying the rocket. Raven had decided to stay behind with the prisoners. Murphy had volunteered, but Bellamy thought he might be useful in a fight. Murphy was basically the only person who didn’t partake in their daily sparring matches with Echo, so he’s pretty sure Bellamy just wanted to keep an eye on him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Dude. You’ve built the perfect image of Clarke in your head over the last six years—talking to an imaginary version of her on that radio, analyzing every single conversation you’ve ever had, playing out a whole ass fantasy of how your relationship will go moving forward.” 

“I have not,” Bellamy argues in a hushed tone. 

Murphy just shoots him a side-eyed glance. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You’ve both changed. And you’re going to have to reconcile the perfect image you’ve created in your head with the actual person—who’s just as fucked up as the rest of us.”  _ Especially after six years alone _ , though Murphy doesn’t voice that last bit out loud. 

“I don’t care about what she’s done to survive or who she became while on the ground. It’s not like we were a perfect pair when we first landed on Earth, either.” Monty stifles a chuckle with a cough, but Bellamy still glares at him. “The point is, we’ll get back to that place. I’ll fall in love with her all over again, whatever version of her we find.” 

Murphy can’t help but glance to where Emori is readying the ship for takeoff. 

When they hit the ground, Murphy nearly jumps out of his own skin when a miniature, little girl version of Bellamy pops out of the treeline. 

“Bellamy? Clarke knew you’d come!” 

Immediately, Harper, Monty, and Murphy all exchange looks. Murphy can literally see Harper go through the mental math of whether this girl could be Bellamy and Clarke’s secret love child. Not that Murphy doesn’t believe in Bellamy’s swimmers, but he’s pretty sure the rugrat is too old to have been conceived on the night before praimfaya. 

The girl bounds up to their group, unfazed by the sight of their group armed and ready, and grabs Bellamy’s hand to drag him behind her. And that’s when the reality sinks in for all of them. 

Clarke is alive. 

Fuck, Clarke is alive with a  _ kid _ . 

Murphy isn’t sure if what he feels is relief or another round of worry. Maybe a mix of both—relief because she’s alive (which means they won’t have to go through another round of Bellamy’s pity party for a year) and worry because she’s apparently in trouble. 

Which, to be fair, is par for the course for Clarke. But that means Bellamy will be first in line to throw himself into danger to get her out of it, also par for the course. Murphy rolls his eyes as he follows them both into the woods. Goddammit, Griffin. 

Murphy sits in the back of Rover with Monty, Harper, and Echo as Madi drives. Bellamy’s plotting an escape for Clarke within seconds and has a plan in place by the time they roll up to the village where they’re keeping her. 

As predicted, Bellamy doesn’t hesitate to gamble over 300 lives for hers. And Murphy thinks to himself that maybe they haven’t changed as much as he thought. 

A long time ago, he told Emori that Bellamy and Clarke were inevitable. At the time, he’d said it almost as a joke, the irony of them being so close to having the time and space to work their shit out only to have it ripped away...permanently. 

Fuck, maybe they really are inevitable. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked it! We're coming up on the end of the story—just two more chapters to go! The next one will be from Bellamy's POV and the final one will be from Clarke's. This fic has been such a blast to write, and I really hope everyone's enjoyed it. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 Come scream at me on [Tumblr (@stealing-jasons-job)](https://stealing-jasons-job.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter (MadsWritesStuff)](https://twitter.com/MadsWritesStuff). And don't forget to follow The 100 Fic for BLM initiative on Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr! [Learn more on our carrd.](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)


	5. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy's POV. 
> 
> He'd been so sure that Clarke was alive, and he had been right. But is she still the same Clarke that told him she loved him before they were forced apart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *knocks lightly* Hello? Anyone still here? 
> 
> It's been a hot second since I updated, but I hope you all enjoy chapter five!

Part of Bellamy always knew she’d been alive the whole time. There’d always been this sliver in his chest that told him that she survived. But a part of Bellamy also always sort of assumed that the part of him that believed she was alive was the same part of him that knew he couldn’t live without her. The part of him that didn’t know if he even wanted to. 

When that kid came barrelling up to their group like she’d known them all for years, it was like a new fire took hold of him. Clarke had made it, and she hadn’t been alone. 

But then Madi had taken his hand, telling him that Clarke was in trouble and fear took hold of him. No, he’d just made his way back to her. The universe couldn’t drag her away again. 

A flip had switched in him then, a long-dormant part of him that he hadn’t needed in years. But within minutes, he was strategizing how to save Clarke and make it out with their family unharmed. Thankfully, he’d pocketed that mug on the Eligius ship — proof of their leverage and Clarke’s ticket out of there. 

He knew that their dealings with the Eligius crew were far from over, but at least he could breathe knowing Clarke was out of their clutches. They’d taken her back to the ship they’d commandeered to rest, and she was curled up on her side now sleeping. 

“You were right,” Monty says, coming up beside where Bellamy stands leaned up against the doorframe. Clarke is safe with them on the ship, but he can’t bring himself to go far. 

“We’re not out of the woods yet.” 

“The two of you have survived worst,” he deadpans, clapping a hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. “You should get some sleep, too. You’re no good to her — or yourself — if you’re dead on your feet tomorrow.” 

He leaves Bellamy alone, but he still doesn’t move. She looks so small, weak. And those are two words he’s never associated with Clarke Griffin. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen her like this, except for maybe that time she got sick back at the Dropship. But he hadn’t felt for her then the way he feels for her now. Sure, he’d respected her, found her captivating and intriguing. But the all-encompassing need to see her safe and happy? That came later. 

But even curled on her side to sleep, electric burns visible on her neck and face pale, she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Hey,” a voice says hesitantly, coming up next to him. His eyes shift to the kid now standing next to him — Madi. 

“Hey.” He’s not sure how to proceed here. Madi’s too old to be Clarke’s, so she must be a nightblood that somehow survived the death wave and subsequent radiation. But she obviously knows Bellamy and the rest of the group. She recognized them as soon as they landed. 

“Clarke’s going to be okay,” she says with a determined breath, for his benefit or her own Bellamy isn’t sure. “She’s strong.” 

“That she is,” he agrees with a small smile. “Seems like she’s not the only one.” 

He sees the telltale signs of a dark blush creep onto her cheeks, and she turns away to hide her embarrassed smile. “Clarke taught me how.” 

“So you two have been down here by yourselves all this time?” 

Madi launches into the story of how Clarke found her — the bear trap, how Madi would sneak food from Clarke in the village when she wasn’t paying attention, the day at the watering hole when Clarke sketched a picture of Madi and left it for her. 

“We’ve been together ever since. She never lost hope that you would come back for her.” 

Bellamy turns his attention back to Clarke’s sleeping form, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. He feels a surge of affection for this kid he doesn’t know from Adam. Because Clarke hadn’t been alone. And as much as Madi may think Clarke was the one who was there for her, he knows that Madi was equally there for Clarke. 

“We’re a little late,” he mutters under his breath, upset all over again that it took them so long to get back to them. 

“She did say timing was never your strong suit.” 

Bellamy huffs a laugh at that, shaking his head. “No, it certainly isn’t.” 

“I’m glad you’re back, Bellamy.” After a second’s hesitation, she launches herself at him in a hug. He catches her, a little bewildered by this fiery child who is suddenly part of their lives. When she lets go, she bounds down the hallway of the ship and leaves Bellamy to his thoughts once more. 

She reminds him of O when she was younger, and he wonders briefly if this is what Clarke was like as a kid. He’s always pictured her as more reserved, uptight. But maybe she was different growing up. 

As his attention turns once again back to Clarke, he lets himself fully take her in. She looks the same in so many ways, but there are differences too. Her blonde hair is cut short above her shoulders and there are a few pink streaks peppered in — Madi has them too, now that he thinks about it. Her skin is tanner than he remembers, probably from spending time outside these past six years. 

But ultimately, she’s the same Clarke he fell in love with deep down. Sure, there will be new things to learn about her and vise versa, but he’d be glad to spend the rest of his life learning everything about her. 

Eventually, Clarke starts to stir. 

“Bellamy?” 

His breath catches at his name on her lips, even if it is hoarse and still sleep-filled. It’s like the fact that she’s alive and here with him crashes over him all over again. 

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe,” he says in a soothing voice, rushing to her side. She tries to get up and winces, and he helps her maneuver herself into a sitting position. 

“You came for me.” 

“Always, Princess.” She smiles at that, and then wraps her arms around him. It takes him a split second to react, but then he’s pulling her as close to him as possible. 

After a moment, it occurs to him that he may be hurting her so he lets up, but she only clutches him tighter. So he does what he’s been aching to do since he first laid eyes on her, pulling her fully into his lap and crushing her to his chest as he buries his face in her hair. 

“God, I missed you,” she breathes into his neck. 

He opens his mouth to say something witty, but the words catch in his throat. Before he can stop it, tears are falling down his face. 

The relief running through his veins is too much to handle, and he just falls apart around her. For years, he’d been so sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’d been alive down here. But the moment they’d strapped into the ship to head for the Eligius ship, a singular fear had ricocheted through him:  _ What if he had been wrong?  _

What would he have done if they’d made it to the ground and she’d been dead the entire time? Or possibly even worse, what if they made it to the ground just moments too late to save her? 

But she’s here, alive and in his arms. “It’s okay, I’m here. I knew you would come back home to me,” she whispers, her lips ghosting across his skin. “We’re here, and we’re alive, and we’re safe.” 

“I should be the one comforting you,” he manages to choke out between sobs. Thank god no one seems to be lingering outside, deciding to give them privacy. 

“We can comfort each other.” 

Bellamy isn’t sure how long they sit there, holding onto each other like the world may fall apart if they let go. But eventually a knock sounds at the door, and they separate slightly. 

“Clarke!” Madi runs over to throw her arms around Clarke. It’s a little awkward at first since she’s still curled up in Bellamy’s lap, but that doesn’t deter the kid. When she pulls back, she’s beaming. 

“Murphy’s even funnier than your stories,” she says matter-of-fact, and Clarke laughs as her eyes flicker to the idiot in question standing at the door. Murphy’s got his arms across his chest wearing a shit-eating grin. 

“And they call me the cockroach.” 

Clarke just shakes her head, standing up gingerly to give him a hug. He seems surprised by her show of affection, but she just pinches his side. “Hug me back, Murphy.” 

He does as he’s told, even going so far as to pick her up off the ground a little. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re not dead.” 

Before she can answer, Madi’s taking her hand and dragging her away. She gives an amused grin back at Bellamy as she trails after and he gets up to follow. 

Monty, Harper, Emori, and Echo are all waiting for them in the small mess area of the ship. “Clarke, Echo says she’ll teach me how to fight!” 

Bellamy laughs at the alarmed look on Echo’s face at her declaration, and she quickly corrects Madi. “I said I would let you spar with us if Clarke said it was okay.” 

Clarke just laughs. “Well, I see you’ve introduced yourself to everyone, Madi. And yes, sparring practice would be good. I’m not the best at hand-to-hand, so my instruction is lackluster.” 

Everyone just sort of stares at her for a moment, and she eventually huffs a sigh. “It’s nice to see everyone, too?” 

That seems to spring people into action. Harper steps forward and throws her arms around Clarke first, and Monty is close behind. 

“We’re so happy to see you!” Harper exclaims once she lets go. 

“Mostly because we were all getting tired of Bellamy yammering about how he missed you,” Monty jokes. Clarke laughs as she pulls him in. 

Bellamy stays back, watching them catch up and dote on Clarke. The others have become his family over the years, and watching them reunite with the other half of his heart fills him with an unexplainable emotion. The only ones missing now are Octavia and Miller. 

“So you were right,” Echo says, her elbow knocking lightly into his as she stands next to him. They’ve come a long way over the years, and he would even consider her a friend now. 

“Never should have doubted me,” he smirks. After a beat, he turns to look at her fully. “I never did say thank you.” 

“For?” 

“That first year was...rough. And as much as hated you back then, you were the first one who got me off my ass when I didn’t want to. Thank you.” 

She studies him for a moment, an eyebrow raised. Echo has always been impossible to read — one of the things that makes her a good spy, he supposes. But it unnerves him when she seems to see right through him when he can’t do the same. 

“You deserve to be happy, Bellamy. I’m happy that she’s alive.” And with that, she makes her way over to give Clarke her own awkward embrace. 

Despite the two not knowing each other, Clarke wraps her arms around the other woman and seems genuinely happy to see her. If she’s been living alone on Earth with just one other person for the past six years, he imagines she’ll take the friendly faces where she can get them. 

They call up Raven on the radio eventually, and Clarke is able to talk to her for a bit, too. The plan is to make a deal with Eligius while Raven is still there and then go get her so they can all be together, so she’s staying on the larger ship for the time being. 

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice, Griffin.” 

“Yours too, Raven,” Clarke says, eyes tearing up a bit. 

After a while, everyone retires to their rooms. Clarke leaves to get Madi settled into their room, and he takes that as his cue to try and get some sleep. It’ll be a long few days ahead of them to try and negotiate with Eligius and get the bunker open, and he imagines Clarke wants to spend some time resting with her surrogate daughter. The last thing he wants to do is intrude. 

But he’s only been in his room for about half an hour when a knock sounds at his door. He opens the door surprised to find Clarke waiting on the other side. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey, come in.” 

She does, and for a minute there is an awkward silence between them. He’s itching to take her into his arms again, but he holds back. Six years is a long time, and he doesn’t want to pressure her into something she may not want anymore. Now she has Madi to think about and there’s a new complication with Eligius and the bunker… there’s a lot going on. 

“I—” 

“Do you—” They both start at the same time, cutting off when they realize the other has something to say with small laughs. 

She gives him a sheepish grin. “You first.” 

“I, uh,” he stutters, running a hand through his hair. “How are you feeling?” 

Clarke raises an eyebrow at him, still knowing him well enough to know that isn’t really what is on his mind. “Fine. A bit stiff, but I’ll live.” 

“Good. That’s...that’s good.” 

God, could he be any more awkward? He feels six years younger all over again, trying to flirt with her on their first Unity Day on the ground with little success. 

“Getting to see everyone was nice,” she starts. “Echo and Emori really seem to have found their place in the group.” Her voice is hesitant, and he wonders what she’s getting at. 

“You and Echo seem close now…” she trails off, not meeting his eyes. And that’s when it hits him. It’s been six years, and she thinks he moved on without her. 

His lips turn up in a smirk as he takes a step toward her. “Princess, do you have something you want to ask me?” 

At his teasing tone, she looks up at him with her eyes narrowed and full of defiance. “I don’t know, do you have something you want to tell me?” 

Instead of answering, he leans in and kisses her. One arm bands around her back and the other cups her cheek, and both of her arms wind around his neck. As cliché as it sounds, her lips under his feel like coming home. 

“You’re kind of a hard act to follow,” he murmurs eventually, his forehead still pressed against hers. 

“Good.” She’s smiling, her hands now tangled in his hair. Fuck, he’s so glad to have her back in his life, back in his arms. 

He leans in to kiss her again, and when she opens her mouth for him he doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss. Within seconds, the kiss turns dirty and he has her backed up against the door. 

Bellamy’s lips travel to her cheek and then her jaw and then that spot just below her ear. She melts beneath his touch, her hands moving from his hair down the front of his chest. A groan escapes her as she goes, and his grip on her hip tightens at the sound. 

But then he remembers that less than 24 hours ago, she’d been tortured at the hands of Eligius prisoners so he forces himself to pull back. She chases after his lips as he goes, trying to pull him back to her. When he doesn’t budge, she huffs. 

“Bellamy,” she whines, and damn if the way his name falls off her lips doesn’t do something to him. 

“You were hurt. And it’s been six years. I’m trying to be a gentleman here.” And it’s getting hard by the second. Literally. 

But Clarke just runs her hands brazenly beneath the henley he’s wearing, nails scraping lightly over his abs. 

“Exactly, Bell. It’s been  _ six years _ . Don’t make me wait any longer.” A groan escapes him, and he crashes his lips to hers. To hell with taking it slow. Clarke’s here and she wants him and he’s not going to deny her a damn thing. 

They don’t even make it to the bed the first time, but eventually they collapse against the pillows wrapped up in each other. 

“I missed you,” she whispers as if she’s sharing a dark secret. Bellamy presses a kiss to her forehead and pulls her close. 

“I missed you, too.” 

“You know, I, uh, used the radio to try to talk to you. It never worked, and Madi thought it was a little pathetic. But doing it every day made me feel connected to you, kept me sane.” She’s rubbing soft circles on his chest, her eyes not meeting his. He blinks at her for a second as the words sink in, but then the biggest smile breaks out across his face. 

“I did, too.” Clarke’s eyes whip up to him at that, and she breaks out in a giggle. 

“You did?” 

“Yeah, Raven had a portable radio that I kept in my room. After I saw that patch of green, I started using it to call down to you at night. I had no way to know if you’d heard me or if you were even alive, but it kept me going.” 

“I love you.” 

He wants to bottle the way she looks at him then because in that moment, he feels invincible. Clarke Griffin is alive and she loves him. 

“I love you, too.” 

He gives her a soft kiss, his hand coming up to tangle in her hair. When he pulls back, he twirls a strand around one of his fingers. 

“I like the cut, by the way.” 

She laughs, reaching out to run a hand over the beard that he’s grown in over the years. 

“Thanks. I’m rather fond of this, too,” she muses. He kisses her forehead before laying down and pulling her more closely to his chest. 

Tomorrow, there will be a mess to clean up — they have another meeting with Diyoza, the leader of the Eligius crew, and they need to strategize a way to get the bunker open. Octavia, Miller and Clarke’s mom are all down there, plus Kane and Indra and so many others. 

But tonight, he gets to hold the love of his life to his chest after six years apart. And just like a part of him knew she had been alive all those years, there’s a piece of him that knows that as long as she’s by his side, they’d make it through whatever challenges lie ahead of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft!Bellamy remains a fav, and I love that this fic got to showcase him front and center. Only one more chapter to go! It'll be from Clarke's POV and act as an epilogue of sorts. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoy! <3


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